Carry On, Snow
by picturesandwords
Summary: A seemingly meaningless choice to follow Baz into the catacombs leads to unexpected consequences, and things will just keep spiraling out of control. SnowBaz, takes place in their fifth(?) year, before Carry On. Rated T because the characters in the real book swear, so they might here as well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Many thanks to my amazing friend and beta reader, who I currently can't get a hold of to ask their account name. Our the best! Also thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my work... As you've doubtless heard a million times, Follows, Favs and Reviews are more than welcome!

SIMON

 _Smash_. The flimsy door to our room slams and Baz storms in, flopping down on his bed without so much as a hello. Jerk. Not that I would expect anything different, just another attempt to needle me… Apparently he's running out of ideas, this isn't exactly like him.

"Good to see you too, Baz." I say.

"Shut up, Snow." Comes the muffled reply from the bed.

Very not like him. "Whatever you say, _vampire boy_."

He shoots upright, "What did you say?"

"Vampire boy," I say, trying my best to copy his patent smirk. Looks like our latest theory might be right, Penny, Agatha, and mine, that is.

As if trying to confirm my thoughts, he says, "Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again."

"You got it, vampire bo—"

Baz is gone again, another slam of the door cutting off the end of my sentence.

Weird, I think to myself and turn back to my homework. Suddenly though, spells of the sixth century don't hold my attention, not that it was an interesting topic to begin with. The half translated spell on my paper seems to be something about invisibility, which gives me an idea. Slipping into my jacket, I too leave.

Baz is nowhere in sight when I get outside, neither is anyone else so I cast **Mom, Have You Seen My…** Baz, generally it's for inanimate objects but I figure it should work just as well with him. A woman's voice yells back, "Have you checked your room?"

I yell back, "Yes." This is the only problem with the spell, sometimes it takes a while, but the first place you haven't checked is always right.

"What about the catacombs?"

"No," then add, "thanks mum," to end the spell.

 _The catacombs_ , I think. _What would he be doing down there? Drinking rat blood? Simon,_ I chide myself _, being mean to Baz's face is one thing, but I don't hate him… Much. I means he's tried to make the last five years of my life hell. I think I should forgive him though, I'm not as clueless as he thinks, and something about me genuinely upsets him._ _Bloody impossible boy._

I almost don't find the entrance to the catacombs, and when I descend the stairs I wish I hadn't. Clinging darkness surrounds me and the smell of dead rats is palpable. I can't imagine Baz here. I continue anyways. "Baz?" I call. "Basilton?"

Something runs over my foot; I feel claws through my shoes and somehow I end up screaming like a little girl, or boy, if you want to be less sexist. Unfortunately, the things that go bump in the dark have just started with me. Something scrapes the wall beside me and I almost turn around and leave. Instead, I pull out the little keychain torch (the electric kind) I've kept with me since two summers ago when I got lost after being sent to the store… Not exactly a high point. Something drips onto my shoulder and I decide to keep moving. "Baz?" I call again, only my echo answers.

Each corridor seems to lead me deeper underground, stone blocks now and then give way to dirt. The ground sticks to my shoes, the air makes my clothes stick to the rest of me, and the rats, I try not to think about them, but I swear I saw one bigger than a cat. If this isn't bad enough everything here sets my magic on edge, it feels as if I could go off at any second. The only good thing about this place is it brings me closer to answers, what exactly Baz is, and what he's planning to do to me this year.

I've been searching at least two hours before I realize I'm lost, it starts as just a nagging suspicion, the odd _have I seen that skull before?_ Until it reaches a full on panic, of course it's at that moment my torch flickers once and goes out, leaving me in the dark and too buzzed to use magic. I place a hand on the wall and try and convince myself the things around my feet aren't alive, and that someone will find me.

BAZ

Simon's in the room when I return, not that I notice at first, I've just finished talking to my family which is an ordeal enough when I don't have to try and convince them we don't need to kill my roommate.A second later and I regret it, _vampire boy_ , I want to kill him, not that that's new I always want to kill him, actually it is new, generally I want to kiss him, not that he knows it. I storm out,I don't have to deal with him, not now, not tonight.

The catacombs welcome me, I don't smell them anymore and without light angering the rats they leave me well enough alone. That's what I wanted, to be left along, isn't it? My mind lingers on Snow longer than it should, I wouldn't mind so much being alone with him, at least the way I want. Not fighting or in anger charged silence, hand in hair, lips— I cut off my train of thought forcefully. I came down here to get away from Snow, or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself. Before I can let anymore thoughts of him invade my head, I start hunting, quickly catching and draining several rats. I'm on my sixth to be exact, when I first hear the voice calling my name. My heart leaps involuntarily, partly because his voice does that to me, mostly because he could discover my secret, and if my life isn't hell enough now, it would be then. I sit in the dark, listening to him call for me, and laughing quietly at the several squeaks he makes, presumably in response to rats. I wait for a few minutes longer, but as fun as hearing Snow stumble around in the dark is, I have homework and I've eaten. Quietly I sneak past him out of the catacombs, determined to get back to our room and be hard at work when he returns.

But he doesn't, not for the next two hours.

SIMON

I'm not claustrophobic, at least that's what I tell myself. Unfortunately, it doesn't change the fact that I can feel the darkness compressing me, making it hard to breath, choking out all of my thoughts until only panic remains. "Help!" I yell into the darkness. It echoes back at me, fainter and fainter. No one comes. I want to cast a spell, but the smoky sent in the air warns me not to, I know for a fact I would go off… I almost already am. I'm alone, minus the rats, and completely helpless, wouldn't Baz have a field-day with this, except I don't care. I could take Baz's teasing for the rest of my life just to be out of here. That's when the thoughts start to creep in, what if this is the rest of my life, here in the dark, eaten by rats? What if no one ever finds me? What if no one cares? And just like that I'm blubbering like a toddler, which certainly doesn't help my situation, but it certainly expresses how I feel. Not like anyone will see it.

BAZ

I try and focus, but it's getting really late, Simon should be back by now. I write another sentence or two on the uses of lyrics as spells, but I can't concentrate. A nagging little voice in the back of my head won't shut up about the lack of Snow, and I can't help but pay attention to it. What Ifs and It Could Happens skip around my head. The one thing in common between all of them, Snow in trouble. _If you get up you're an idiot_ , I tell myself. I get up. _If you open the door_ , I try again. I do it anyways, I always do when Snow is involved.

I can smell him in the catacombs, well I smell his magic, smoky and promising the threat of an explosion. Just effing perfect. I practically sprint after it; if Snow tries magic down here it could very likely be the end of both of us. I run a good half a mile before I find him, back against the wall and _crying_. Crowley.

SIMON

I know someone's found me, a tap on my shoulder alerts me to it. It's too dark to see whoever it is, but my best guess is Penny, she probably snuck into Baz's and my room, then came to find me. I practically tackle her to the ground, wrapping my arms around her waist and burying my face in her neck, so glad to have her have found me that it takes a second to realize that Penny doesn't have short hair, or a boy's body. Whoever this is it's most definitely not her. I cling to them—him anyways. Apparently near death experiences do this to me.

BAZ

I tap Snow on the shoulder, and suddenly he's arms are wrapped around me, and he's quite literally crying on my shoulder. Not that I mind. I know it's not fair for me enjoy this, but it's rather hard not to. I wrap my arms around him too, trying to comfort him without having my voice give me away and end this. His warmth spreads through my body, and the smell of smoke lessons by the second, maybe I should do this more often. I wouldn't though, it's too mean, even for me, and Snow isn't supposed to be like this, shaking and vulnerable, he's supposed to be clueless and hate me. Crowley, the way he's clinging to me doesn't seem like hate, _he doesn't know it's you_ , I remind myself. This moment is too good to be true, and eff that's messed up, but honestly I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing. Snow's body is pressed into me and it makes it rather hard to think, uneven breaths tickle the back of my neck making it hard to keep my own breathing steady, but I do, not because I don't want to let him know how I feel—if he hasn't guessed by now he probably never will— but because it's one of the few ways I know to comfort someone without talking. I pull him closer, trying to quell the last of his shaking, but it doesn't seem to have any effect, so I do the hardest thing I've done all year, I break the silence, "It's okay, Snow."

SIMON

I've changed my mind, I'm going to mind Baz teasing me about this, because this mystery boy I'm holding onto is him, because the boy I'm crying against is him, because the boy who is holding me and telling me it'll be okay is him. I should let go of him, the last thing I want is to give him any more reason to hate me, although this doesn't feel like hate, this doesn't feel like the Baz I know at all. So instead I say, "Thanks, Baz." And concentrate on making myself stop shaking. Then, finally, I let go, asking, "How do we get out of here?"

Baz grabs my hand, saying, "Follow me, Snow." Then adding, "No, I can't make a light, it angers the rats."

Baz

It's true, it really does, and I don't know any night vision spells, I've never needed one. I wouldn't torture myself like this if I did, believe me. Anyways, it shouldn't take to long the get out of here, and Snow doesn't seem in danger of freaking out… Lucky me. Not that I'm complaining, I'm acutely aware of Snow's hand in mine, every place we're touching sends sparks shooting from it. This isn't fair, I wish I had this affect on him, as if that could ever happen. _At least he didn't let go once he knew it was you_ , the thought somehow manages to worm its way to the surface, and I immediately squash it down, the more I think things like this the more painful it is to be around him. The more I want to tell him, _I love you, Snow._


	2. Chapter 2

SIMON

Baz leads me back out of the catacombs in a matter of minutes, never once does his grip on my hand loosen, which I'm grateful for. He doesn't try and talk to me either, which is good, I don't think he would take kindly to my reasons for being in the catacombs. Spying, even failed, generally isn't taken kindly to, even among friends. Not that Baz is my friend. It doesn't feel right classifying him as an enemy either though, not with his presence keeping me calm.

Night air welcomes us when we emerge, suddenly I can breathe again. Baz and I walk back to the building where our room is in silence, me because I don't ever want to talk about what happened, Baz because he's Baz. The stairway up really only allows for one person to walk up at a time. Baz lets his arm trail behind him and I decide to keep ahold of his hand. It's still too dark to see where the steps are, and even though it can't be much after lights out, meaning I'm up later than this all the time, this feels different, and I don't want to ask him to make a light. I still don't trust myself. He opens the door, saying, "You can let go of my hand now, Snow." As if there's nothing he would like better than for me to get as far away from him as possible, he probably does, he's made his feelings toward me quite clear.

I'm to tired to think of a retort, and I'm pretty sure that was a jibe, "Thanks." I say, before collapsing onto my bed. From across the room I hear Baz moving around, then the bathroom door shuts and the shower turns on. Baz has the right idea, again, I think, realizing I've taken rather a lot of the catacombs back with me. Bloody vampire. Just like that I'm asleep.

A sharp poke in the back wakes me up, it doesn't feel like I could have been asleep all night. Which it turns out I haven't been.

"Snow," Baz says, "Get up and shower, you're making the whole place smell like rat."

I drag myself into the bathroom and strip, before letting the hot water and soap wash away any evidence of my recent adventures. Quickly drying off my hair, I wrap a towel around my waist and exit the bathroom. Cold air slowly freezes me as I try and find my pajamas, they don't seem to be in any of my drawers, and I just beginning to look a second time when Baz gets up.

"Crowley Snow!" He says, picking up the offending garments from the floor, "How helpless are you?" He tosses them to me before getting back into bed.

"I didn't need your help!" I say defensively.

Baz looks at me in disgust, "Just like you didn't need my help in the catacombs?" He asks.

It takes almost all of my self control not to scream at him. "That was different," I say at last, and it was, the Baz I met there was someone I could be friends with, someone I'd want to be around.

I can practically see the acid retort he's about to spit at me, but then he just sighs and says, "Yeah, it was."

"Baz?" I ask.

"Need me to find something else for you, Snow? Did you perhaps lose your dignity, I think that's still down with the rats." He says.

"No," I pause, knowing what I'm about to do is the right thing but not wanting to anyways, "Thank you, and Baz, whatever I did to you, I'm sorry."

Silence from the other side of the room, not even the sound of a breath.

"Good night," I say, trying one last time.

"Good night, Snow, and thank you."

BAZ

I hold Snow's hand until we reach our room. I think he's too shell shocked to let go so I allow myself the few extra minutes of not acting like me. Crowley, he's holding my hand. As soon as we reach the door though, I realize this has to stop, otherwise I'll never let go. I summon all the venom I can muster and tell him to let go, the sad part is, this probably hurts me more than him. I get my stuff and head to the shower, I don't really need to, except I need time to figure out what this meant, time to deny what I feel.

My family isn't exactly the touchy feely type, but I've hugged enough people to know it doesn't normally leave you feeling the way I do now, granted I've never hugged Snow. Just. Stop. Thinking. About. It. And I try, but it doesn't seem to be my conscious thought controlling the ghosts of Simon's breath on my neck, an after glow of his hand in mine. Actually it's a bit of a problem.

The room smells like rat when I return, and Snow is asleep. Poke him and tell him to go take a shower, I don't really mind, but he will later. Sitting down, I finish the last of my paper and flop on top of my covers, listening to the water running from inside the bathroom and trying to sleep. Trying not to think about him.

Snow stumbles out, half naked as usual, I wish he wouldn't do that, it's really distracting, and starts looking for his pajamas. At least he's wearing them tonight, I think as I spot them abandoned on the floor. I want to let him find them on his own, but it's impossible to ignore him. I start getting lost in the lines of his back, how they're ever so slightly curved, the way his hair falls into his blond hair falls into his face. By his second time looking through his drawers I have to tell him where they are, if only to keep myself from doing something I might regret.

I'm extra vicious when he tries to talk to me again, he deserves it, I think. He doesn't.

Then comes the second most expected sentence, "Thank you, and Baz, whatever I did to you, I'm sorry."

I want to scream at him, "You didn't do anything!" Well at least not anything he could help. I want to tell him you're welcome, and thank him. I want to tell him how I feel, and I don't. I want him to hate me again- because this would be so much easier- and I don't. So instead I keep quiet, but when he wishes me goodnight I feel I have to acknowledge what he's said, even if it's only. "Thank you."

(Is highlighted needed? wanted?)

Morning is less of a hell than usual, Snow keeps the curtains drawn and gets dress quietly. I don't even wake up until he shakes me, "Get up Baz, we're going to be late for breakfast."

"What?" I ask, not because of this fairly simple statement, I'm not that tired, but at how he's acting.

Snow, apparently not understanding, begins to repeat himself.

I cut him off by getting out of bed and starting towards my dresser, but he blocks my way. He's to close, everything about him assails my senses.

"Look," He starts off, "I've been thinking maybe-"

"You've been thinking? That's new, careful not to hurt yourself." I say, it's to easy a insult to leave. I push past him and start looking for my clothes.

"Anyways," he says, clearly annoyed, "I've been thinking that maybe we should um…"

"You just said that." I say trying to annoy him, deciding I should probably just change here so as not to seem weird to Snow. He's always gone by the time I get up. "We should…" I prompt him, pulling off my shirt and trying to pretend he's not here.

His words come out in a jumbled rush and end up sounding like, "maybe-we-should-be-friends-if-you-want?"

I pull on the rest of my clothes and turn to face him, "Haha, very funny Snow. Now if you don't mind I should be going, wouldn't want to be late for breakfast." I race out of the room before he can see the hurt on my face, not because of what he said, there's a good chance he meant it, but because I can't except.

SIMON

At breakfast, between bites of scone, I tell Penny everything. She stares at me like I've gone mad, but waits until the end to start telling me off. Apparently of all the "irresponsible, ill thought out, brainless foolishness involving Baz" this is the worst yet. "You need to be nicer to him, Simon." She scolds me. "He could have just left you there you know. It's always up to me to fix things like this, isn't it?"

"What?" I ask.

"Never mind, Simon. We've got to go to class."

 **A/N**

 **Here's a shorter chapter, expect more soonish. Just finished midterms, YAY!**


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